Picking up the Pieces
by ramy823
Summary: Takes place right around 1.14 Out of the Box and 2.01 Withdrawal. Neal is upset after Kate dies. Peter wants him to come back to his old deal, but Neal doesn't know if life is worth living without Kate. Kind of depressing, warnings inside. Will be multiple chapters, please review!
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first time ever posting, so any tips would be cool.**

 **I do not own white collar, just in love with Matt Bomer... all characters, quotes, etc. belong to USA network!**

 **Starts right after 2.01 Withdrawal**

 **Enjoy!**

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Neal drifted through processing. Physically, he was there in the prison. Following the guard's orders, allowing them to manhandle him, going through the all too familiar process he had previously hoped to never have to go through again. He was once a pain in the ass during this process, but now he cannot find it in him to care, to make any witty remarks, to even give the guards a hard time as he once did. Because that was over a year ago. A different time. A time when Kate was still alive, and Neal had hope for the world.

Yes, physically, he is there. But mentally? Mentally he is in a different prison, one inside his mind, trapped in a constant repetition of his nightmarish memory from earlier that day.

He is back at the tarmac and in one moment his adoring and loving blue eyes are watching Kate, the love of his life, his sole purpose of existence smile and wave to him from inside the cabin, and in the next moment he is reliving the last few moments before watching her go up in flames.

" _You said goodbye to everyone but me. Why?" Peter inquired._

" _I don't know" Neal said, trying hard to keep his mask in place, despite feeling it slip away with each word he spoke to Peter._

" _You do. Tell me."_

" _I don't know. Okay?" Neal panted, a part of him hoping Peter would drop it and let him walk onto the plane, but another small part of him relieved that Peter is here, as he secretly was hoping he would be._

" _Why?"_

" _You know why" God, it was so obvious, and Neal's well practiced mask was close to non-existent at this point, as he felt silent tears run down his face._

" _Tell me," Peter pressed on._

 _Finally, Neal admitted, as his voice broke, "You're the only one who could change my mind."_

 _Hope lit up Peter's face, "Did I?"_

" _Peter-" He was not able to speak any further, as he was thrown back onto the ground and surrounded by intense heat._

He can still feel the heat of the fire on his face. He can still feel the rawness of his throat as he screams out her name in a vain and futile attempt at reaching her, at saving her. He tries reaching out to her, but something is blocking him, preventing him from going in after her, from letting him die with her if he cannot save her.

Peter is there, holding him back, whispering soothing words into his ear that Neal cannot even begin to comprehend, because in that moment, all Neal knows is that this is not how it should be. He should be on his way to living his happily ever after with his one true love, not watching the future of his dreams crash and burn before his eyes.

If Peter had not shown up, Neal would have been on that plane with Kate. He would have burned with her. He would have died with her. But at least he would have been with her. A part of him wishes that Peter would have never shown up to stop him. He would be dead right now, but at least he would be with Kate. And he would not have this gaping hole in his chest where his heart should be. He would not be in this unbearable amount of pain, wishing for death to release him from this mind-numbing pain. A pain so engulfing that all he can do is stand there and allow it to consume him. Yes, Peter saved his life. But Neal wishes he had not.

"We're done here," one of the guard's harsh voices pulled Neal out of his nightmarish memories, grabbing Neal's arm as he led him to his cell.

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It had been three days since the explosion. Peter had gotten his badge back and worked out all of the minor details with Hughes and the higher ups. But Peter was worried. It was not his job and trouble with the bureau that plagued him, he could work those problems out easily enough. He would be under tight scrutiny for a little while, but as long as he closed his cases he would be fine.

No, that was not what had Peter Burke worried. His concern was on the man who was in all of this trouble with him, as it usually goes. How was it that Neal Caffrey was able to take up so much of Peter Burke's focus? From spending years catching him, to most recently trying to keep him in line, to now, worrying about his well-being and state of mind. The only difference is that Neal was taking up the mind of Peter Burke, FBI agent the previous times. Now, however, he was taking up the mind of Peter Burke, friend.

He had seen Neal upset before, but looking into Neal's eyes as he watched the plane burn down was a whole new level. He was expecting to see pain, hurt, anger, but what he saw shocked him. Neal's eyes exuded pain, yes, but somehow were also empty; it was like looking into a vast nothingness, void of everything but the lingering remnants of what could have been.

Peter snapped out of his musing as Jones approached his office, lightly knocking on his door, "Peter, Hughes approved your request to bring Neal back reinstated with his old deal. The higher ups have decided to "overlook" the fleeing attempt, not enough evidence they decided. If you ask me, they just value him too much with how high your closure rate is. Anyway, you can finally go pick him up from Sing-Sing whenever you're ready."

Peter's heart lifted at Jones' words, knowing Neal wouldn't have to worry about staying one more night in prison, not when he should be at home with his friends, grieving his loss.

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When Neal walked into the visiting room and sat at the table across from Peter, the first thought that ran through Peter's head was that this was not the Neal Caffrey, the charming and brilliant, seemingly invincible con man who Peter had grown to know and love. This man looked worn and tired, refusing to even look up and make eye contact as Peter explained that Neal could have his old deal back.

Peter knew undoubtedly that Neal would be upset, and how could he not be, watching the love of his life die before his eyes and being able to do nothing to stop it? But he thought the chance at being released from prison and back into his old deal would at least offer him some small hope in the midst of all his pain.

He was not expecting Neal to flat out deny his offer.

"Neal, you just experienced a great loss- "

"Peter, please, I don't want to think about it right now, okay." Neal scoffed to himself silently, how could he think about anything else ever again? "Look I'm sorry, but I just want to be alone. Can you give me some time to think about the offer?" Neal pleaded.

And with that, Neal stood up, finally making eye contact with Peter, as the guard ushered him back to his cell. He left Peter sitting there, feeling even more worried about his CI-turned-best-friend than he was a couple hours ago. The brief glimpse into Neal's eyes that he saw as he was ushered out did not belong to the man he knew. The bright blue was replaced with gray, no spark of light or hope, only a flash of desperation, begging to be released from the never-ending pain. This is why Neal did not care about the deal. Prison or anklet, there would be no escape from this pain. Either way he would be imprisoned in his mind from the pain of losing Kate, so what was the point?


	2. Chapter 2

**This is my first time ever posting, so any tips would be cool, please review!**

 **I do not own white collar, just in love with Matt Bomer... all characters, quotes, etc. belong to USA network**

 **This follows the show's story just as a baseline**

 **Warning for suicide in this chapter, not a death fic though**

 **Enjoy!**

Neal sat on his bed in his empty cell. He had only been back in prison for three days now, and despite that being only a fraction of the time he had previously served, he had never felt so alone, both physically and emotionally. The girl he would have risked everything for, _tried_ to risk everything for, was gone from his life for good. He had been willing to break out of prison, risk four more years tacked onto his sentence, just to be with her again, because nothing was worth losing Kate, not even his freedom.

Only now, he had neither. He did not think he would ever be in as much pain as he was the second time Peter arrested him, sitting alone in Kate's apartment with the empty bottle of wine, missing Kate by just two days. But this pain that he felt now did not even compare. Back then, he still had the hope that one day they would be together again. Now he had nothing. Sure, he could go back to his deal, but for what purpose?

Neal pondered Peter's offer, but he could not really find it in him to care at all. Even if he went back to his old deal, there was nothing there for him. He only wanted the deal in the first place to find Kate; without her, his life had no point, whether he was in prison or not. Assisting the FBI in cases was fun and rewarding, and running cons with Mozzie was always exhilarating, but without Kate in his life neither of those things mattered. None of it mattered if there was no one to fall back on, no one to look forward to spending the rest of his life with; he would just be wasting time until it was all over anyway.

No, taking Peter's deal would offer him no comfort, no release. Being out of prison would mean nothing, not if he were without Kate. He could almost feel his heart break as he cried silent tears, sitting alone his bed. He would give anything to be with her again, but that possibility lay dead next to her body. How did it come to this?

Neal remembered back to the tarmac again, talking to Peter before the plane exploded. He remembered Peter trying to convince him to stay, and despite Neal's love for Kate, Neal did have some doubts in his mind about leaving. He remembered the uncertainty and hesitation he felt when Peter had asked him if he changed his mind, and he remembered how close he came to choosing Peter and that new life over Kate. How could he have thought that?

Guilt overwhelmed him as he sat there, thinking about how he had almost betrayed Kate. He should have been on that plane with her, not standing there on the air strip a couple hundred feet away, considering abandoning her. Kate did not deserve to be dead, Neal did. But his innocent Kate had to face the consequences of his risky life, yet again. Neal wishes he had been on that plane with her. He should be dead and resting peacefully with Kate right now, finding an ending with her, even if it was not the one he had imagined. This pain is what he deserves for questioning his loyalty to her, for coming so close to betraying her.

The pain and guilt became too much, overwhelming his senses; Neal stood up, pacing his small 10x10 cell. He could not do this anymore. He could not live in the same world where Kate was dead. It might have hurt like hell when she left him, but back then at least he knew it was not the end; he knew they would be together someday soon. But now he knew he would never see her again. There was nothing he could do, nothing could make this better ever again.

Neal knew what he had to do. He looked around, searching for something, anything, that might help end his pain. Through his tear-filled eyes, he caught a glimpse of a screw in the bed frame, and despite the uncontrollable shaking in his hands, managed to remove it from its setting. The point of the screw was not ideal, but it was sharp enough; all he needed was for it to break skin, and time would finish the rest of the job.

As he moved the screw towards his wrist, Peter suddenly popped into his mind,, followed by Mozzie, and Elizabeth, and June. The few other people in this world for whom he cared about. He wondered how this would affect them, how they would feel when the prison called to inform them of the news, when they realized how weak he was. Yes, they would be hurt, but they would get over it. The FBI would lose a valued resource and a few of people would lose a friendly ex-con. He knew he was loved, but that was not enough to stop him from doing what he thought was the only possible decision. He did not want to hurt them, but they would survive; he was nobody's Kate. He had caused them enough trouble as it was; in fact, they would probably be better off in the end without him in their lives. Just thinking about the trouble he has caused them all, even from just knowing them this short amount of time, sealed the deal. He knew what he must do.

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Peter stepped off the elevator back at the office after his disappointing discussion with Neal. His gut was churning, something not sitting quite right. If Neal valued anything above all else, it would be his freedom, yet there he was with the option open, and he ignored it.

Jones approached him, noticing Peter by himself, "Hey boss, thought you would be dragging an ex-con around with you right about now. Where's Neal?" he asked casually.

Too distracted on his qualms about Neal, it took Peter a moment to comprehend what Jones was asking. Finally, Peter looked at his agent, worry evident in face and voice, "He's still at Sing-Sing" he announced dejectedly.

"What? I thought you just went to pick him up, was there a problem with the paperwork?"

"No, no, the paperwork was fine, the problem was with Neal. I tried to get him to come back, thought he would be happy that option was still available after everything that happened these past few days, but he denied the old deal, says he doesn't want out right now, he only wants to be 'alone'."

" _The_ Neal Caffrey doesn't want out of prison? That sure as hell doesn't sound like the CI I've been working with for the past year."

"I know, me either. I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried about him. He's clearly not thinking straight right now, I'm just scared he might try to do something stupid."

"You mean something more stupid than he usually does?" Jones said, unintentionally making light of the situation.

"You didn't see him in there Clinton, it was like a part of him died on that tarmac with Kate, and it doesn't seem like the rest of him wants to be here either. I just can't stand thinking about him spending another night in that prison alone, going through everything by himself. All I want to do is help him, but I just don't know how."

Jones finally detected the seriousness in Peter's words upon hearing the use of his first name; Peter was talking to him as a friend, not as his boss. This caused worry to creep into Jones' as well; he and Neal were not nearly as close as Peter and Neal, but he still liked and cared for the man as a coworker.

Wanting to ease Peter's fears, (as well as some of his own,) Jones supposed, "The higher ups won't keep his deal open forever, why don't we go back and try to talk some sense into him. We'll drag him out if we have to, but at least the option for the deal will still be open for him. I just don't want him making a decision he's going to regret and be stuck rotting in there for the next few years because he was to grief-stricken to accept the deal."

Although Jones was talking about regretting the decision of passing on the deal, Peter's concern tugged at him, thinking of another regretful decision Neal might make, hoping against all hope that he may be wrong. A sense of urgency overcame him as the men sped back to the prison, Peter desperate to help his hurting friend, wondering why he ever left Neal in the first place after their conversation, not when he was in such a poor state of mind.

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Lying back on his bed, Neal finally brought the screw to his arm; steadying his still shaking hand, he broke skin and quickly dragged the tool from the inside of his elbow down to his wrist. He did the same on the other arm, letting the physical pain momentarily block out the emotional pain. He felt relief wash over him as he finished and let the screw drop to the ground, its task complete. Neal lay back on the bed, dried tears sitting on his cheek as he closed his eyes, hoping for a speedy death as the blood dripped slowly from the wounds on his arms. Neal was not sure if he believed in heaven, but he hoped that the next time he woke, he would be with Kate again, and free from this pain of life without her.

"I'm sorry, Kate" were the last words he mumbled before he succumbed to sleep.

 **Sorry to end on a cliff-hanger, and I promise this is not a death fic!**


	3. Chapter 3

**This is my first time ever posting, so any tips would be cool**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it is really encouraging to see people enjoying the story!**

 **I do not own white collar, just in love with Matt Bomer... all characters, quotes, etc. belong to USA network**

 **Warning for attempted suicide**

 *******************Some things weren't making sense so I went back and edited this chapter, changed a couple things towards the end. Sorry it's been a while but I'm back, next chapter should be up shortly : )**

Peter was back at Sing-Sing merely hours after his first visit that day, only this time he was accompanied with Jones. Upon hearing the agents' inquiry about Neal Caffrey, the beefy prison guard gave his older looking partner a wary look, one that did not go past Peter's watchful eye unnoticed, which only helped to add to his feeling of unease.

"Is there something you aren't telling us?" Peter questioned.

The beefy guard hesitated, glancing a look back at his partner again, as if asking permission to tell the agents the truth. Receiving a nod, before the older guard turned and left the conversation, he continued.

"Look fellas, Caffrey's been in here a few days now, and he's a quiet one, bit of a loner. He's barely said a word to anyone. It's been a pain in the ass getting him out of that cell for yard time or even to eat, and he barely made it out of bed for visitation"But he's not causing any trouble so there isn't much for us to do."

Peter shot a concerned glance at Jones; his heart tugged for the pain Neal must be in. The man he knew was always social and lively, the exact opposite of the man that the guards just described. It was clear that Neal was not taking Kate's death well at all, but really, why did he expect anything different? Peter knew nearly all of Neal's actions this past year were with Kate in mind; hell, he would not doubt it if Neal only wanted the deal in the first place to get back with her again.

Coming back to the matter at hand, Peter turned his attention back to the guard. "We need to see him. Can you show us to his cell?"

"Look, visiting hours are over, why don't you come back tomorrow morning, I'm sure he'll be in the same spot as he is now, probably won't move an inch even if we wanted him to."

Peter was not about to take no for an answer. Done with the pleasant formalities, he angrily pulled out his badge and shoved it in the man's face, close enough that the man's nervous breaths produced fog on the shiny metal.

"Do you know what this badge means? It means we are in the Federal Bureau of Investigation and we do not enjoy it when people waste our time. So when I say that I need to see one of the prisoners here, I am telling you, not asking you." He continued his tirade in the same authoritative voice, irritation dripping from each word. "So unless you want me to get in touch with the warden and explain to him how you're interfering with an FBI investigation, I'd advise that you take us to see Neal. Now."

"Y-yes, sir," the guard stammered, not wanting to be in any trouble with his boss. "If you follow this way I can you take you to him r-right away."

The pair swiftly followed the guard through the security door and down the hall towards the cells.

"And that's how you get things done," Peter whispered to Jones, who had stayed quiet during Peter's reprimand, impressed by Peter's ability to scare the guard into letting them through. That was something Peter definitely would not have done were he not seriously worried about his friend.

Upon approaching the cell which the guard identified as Neal's, Peter felt a chill run through his body, sensing something was off. Picking up his pace, Peter finally reached the bleak cell, his heart hammering in his chest. However, he relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief when he noted Neal to be asleep. _He sure needs it_ , Peter thought, remembering the dark shadows under the man's eyes from their meeting earlier in the day. It took him a moment to realize, however, that Neal was not asleep. He froze for an instant when he spotted blood on Neal's sheets and noticed the pallor of his face as well as the clamminess of his skin.

"Neal!" Peter shouted, rushing over to his friend. "God, Neal, what did you do?" Peter grabbed fistfuls of the bed sheets, attempting to bandage the arm wounds and halt the blood loss, haphazardly wrapping sheets around each arm, paling when he noticed how fast the sheets were staining red.

Jones and the prison guard stood by the doorway staring at the scene in front of them, both too shocked to move, and unaware of how to help.

Not daring to take his eyes off his dying best friend, yet still trying to keep his FBI reasoned mind, Peter ordered to the guard behind him. "Call for a doctor! He couldn't have done this too long ago, there isn't that much blood yet, but he's losing it fast; he needs to get up to the infirmary, and fast." Peter felt his heartbeat rush into his ears and panic begin to overwhelm as he realized this was actually happening; it was not just some nightmare he could wake up from.

Now cradling Neal in his arms, Peter gently shook the man in an attempt to rouse him from unconscious. Peter begged the man whom he considered a part of his family to wake up, feeling the beginning of tears wet his eyes at the thought of Neal dying. "Come on Neal, buddy, be okay, please be okay. God, just open your eyes for me, please."

Upon receiving no response, Peter's body, wracking with unreleased sobs, shook Neal's. He let the built-up tears in his eyes fall, wondering how it came to this, how he was so blind to the level of pain Neal was in when he spoke to him earlier that day; how Neal was able to put up such a strong façade, even when the pain he was in was too much for the one man to live with.

Peter felt plagued with guilt as he looked down on the once happy, overly enthusiastic, charming conman. _How did I let it come to this?_ He thought.

"Please, Neal, just open your eyes, be okay," hoping for, but not expecting an answer, Peter gave a frantic laugh when his desperate plea was rewarded with Neal's voice.

"Hmmm" Neal's eyes began to flutter open.

"Neal!" Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, "Hang in there, buddy; just stay with me okay?"

"Pet'r? W'happn'd?" Neal slurred, discomfort and confusion apparent in his slurred voice.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief at hearing Neal semi-coherent, but he knew they were not out of the woods yet.

"Don't worry about that right now Neal, just focus on staying awake okay? The doctor's gonna come help ya out now, let him take care of you."

"'kay" Neal exhaled, too tired to do anything else or even to put up a fight. He really was not sure what was happening, or why he felt so crappy, but he trusted that Peter had his back and was thinking of his best interests. In his disoriented state, he momentarily forgot how he ended up in this position in the first place.

Peter opened his mouth to speak more encouraging words to him again just as Neal's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was met with the sweet numbness of unconsciousness.

"Neal!" Peter shouted, just as prison doctors entered, pushing him to the side so they could secure their patient. Peter watched as they leaned over his friend and worked to save his life.

"Found a pulse, but it's weak!"

"Stats are dropping; he's losing too much blood!"

"He's as secure as we're going to get him here; we need to get him over to the infirmary, now!"

The two medical personnel carefully placed Neal's body on a stretcher and rolled him towards the infirmary, hoping he could hold on long enough until they were within reach of their medical equipment. As they wheeled past the other inmates in the wing, nearly everyone was leaning against their cell bars, neglecting to feign sleep at the late hour to get even a glimpse of the drama.

The Guard from earlier finally found his voice again, informing the two agents of the prison policies. "You two can't be here any longer I'm sorry. Even if this were about some investigation, Caffrey's in no shape to help with it right now. You can come back tomorrow morning during visitor hours, or we'll call you if there's an…update…any sooner." Not missing the implication in his words, Peter prayed he would not get a phone call from the prison before morning.

Peter sat up from Neal's empty bed, covered in his best friend's blood, knowing there was no point in arguing with the guard, because there was nothing to be done except let the doctors do their jobs Peter could only hope that his friend would survive this.

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Peter paced in front of the entrance of the prison, checking his watch more times as the seconds went by. Each minute passed by agonizingly slow, waiting for the clock to strike 9:00 AM so he could visit Neal.

 _How could I have let this happen?_ Was all Peter could think as he continued his pacing. Although he did not receive any 'updates' between the time he was ushered out of the prison last night and standing in the prison doorway this morning, worst case scenarios still plagued his mind. He imaged the prison doctor coming out, informing him that they tried their best, but Neal had lost too much blood, or possibly worse, that Neal had woken up frantically and decided to finish off his life once and for all.

 _No. Don't think like that. He's all right. He's Neal Caffrey; he's always okay._

He would give anything for that to be true, for Neal to really be okay. He would wish nothing more than to have Neal walk over to him and joke about seeing actual tears in the eyes of his normally unmoved, emotionally distant handler, or to have him sitting next to him in the seat of his Taurus, complaining about his driving, or even at the office, distracting agents from their work with his ever-present charm. He wondered if he would ever get that Neal Caffrey back.

Ding Ding Ding

The alarm on his phone went off, alerting him that he was finally allowed admittance to visitation. He immediately walked in, not exactly sure in what state of mind or body he would find his friend.

 **Please review with comments, thoughts/ideas for the story, or any writing tips!**


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